


When the Opportunity Arises

by coldfiredragon



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bodyswap, Canon Bisexual Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Crack, Fluff, Idriot, M/M, Smut, queliot, rare pair challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 18:59:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17834303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldfiredragon/pseuds/coldfiredragon
Summary: When Eliot wakes up in Idri's body, and Idri wakes up in his, Eliot has more important things to think about than getting them back to themselves.An entry for The Magicians Prompts rare pair challenge.





	When the Opportunity Arises

**Author's Note:**

> My entry for The Magicians rare pair challenge, the prompt I chose is as follows. 
> 
>  
> 
> _Bodyswap, but for *insert reason* they have to try and stop the others from realizing_
> 
>  
> 
> I picked Idri/Eliot, smut and crack ensued!

Eliot was sure he had fallen asleep as the little spoon to Idri's big, so when he woke up in the early morning, too early for much natural light to fill his bedroom, with Idri held to his chest it was a little disorienting. When Idri visited, they generally screwed like rabbits and slept like the dead, unmoving and sated, in one another's embrace. He liked being the little spoon, and he didn't remember moving during the night. Without opening his eyes, he leaned in to press a gentle kiss to the back of Idri's head. His nose and lips nuzzled into a mess of soft curls instead, ones that smelled distinctly like his shampoo and conditioner. What. The. Fuck? 

He reached for the oil lamps with his telekinesis, or tried, because the power he'd learned to bottle as a teenager was conspicuously absent, no telekinesis. Check. He tried to light the lamps with a movement of his fingers, but the long, limber digits he was used to were bigger and thicker and distinctly not magical. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His eyes flew open as his heart hammered in his chest and reached, with Idri's fingers, to shake 'his' shoulder. What the ever loving fuck had they drank last night?

“Idri?” The word was a little louder than he'd intended, and his husband's baritone sounded odd when it was coming out of his mouth edged with a hint of hysteria. 

“Hmm? What is it, my love?” His body stretched, and Eliot was fixated as the sheets pulled down past his navel. He'd always admired his body, but seeing it, seeing how fluidly the muscle and skin moved from the outside made his mouth dry, and the cock between his legs stir. Not. The. Time. He tried to think of something boring. 

“Umm, we have a little, no actually, a huge problem...” His voice squeaked, which would have sounded right in his voice, but seemed utterly wrong in Idri's. How were they going to hide this? Tick would flip, Ess would flip. Their courts could potentially be thrown into upheaval. 

“What?” Idri rolled onto his back, realizing as his waking mind returned the predicament they found themselves in. His hands raised as he stared at the digits in wonder. “Eliot... How?” 

“I have no idea, but we'll fix this. I promise. You're here for the rest of the week; we can make it longer if we need to. It's...” Eliot swallowed. It would be fine. “...Fine. Oh my god, what are you doing?” Idri's hand had dropped to his chest, and Eliot watched as 'his' long fingers circled his nipple, then trailed down his belly and under the slight tent of the blanket. Silently Eliot cursed his tendency to wake up with an erection when he shared his bed with a male partner. Quentin was used to it and usually joined him, but when he slept with Idri, he usually woke up and took care of it before his husband was awake. 

“Learning.” The word was blunt, without the purr Eliot might have managed, but the grin that spread across his, currently Idri's face, made Eliot's heart flutter. Eliot squeezed his eyes shut, and focused more thoroughly on boring thoughts. It might have worked if he couldn't see the rise and fall of the blanket as Idri fisted himself. 

“Stop, stop, you're, here, let me. You're being too rough. I don't want bruises when I get me back.” Eliot licked his lips, then chased the hand from his crotch and took over. Idri was great in bed, but he'd yet to master exactly how Eliot liked to handle himself. Maybe this was the opportunity for his husband to learn a thing or two. Idri inhaled with a soft gasp, then exhaled with a breathy moan. “You had better be taking notes.” Eliot playfully murmured. He'd leaned over Idri to kiss him, and the hand not twisted around his cock combed through the soft curls of his hair. His eyelashes looked impossibly long when he blinked. Forget boring thoughts. With his luck, he would have them back in their bodies by dinner, and there was no way he was missing the one chance he might have to fuck himself. Mindlessly he reached for the lube with the telekinesis he no longer had, and his chin dropped with a frustrated groan when he realized he'd actually have to move to get it. 

“What's wrong?” Gentle fingers tipped his chin, and Eliot tilted Idri's face to kiss them. Eliot lifted his hands away from his body and flexed his fingers. 

“No magic.” He explained. “And the lube is over there on the table.” His gaze followed the point of his hands, then the tube abruptly shot off the table and towards them, but at speed too fast to catch. It impacted the opposite wall hard enough to expel a large portion of the slick in an arc that spread across the floor. 

“How?” Idri stared at him in confusion. “I know no magic.” 

“You don't have to. My telekinesis is inherent.” Eliot rolled towards the edge of the bed, careful of the erection between his thighs, then got up to get the tube. There was plenty left for them to finish, and a bit more as extra if they were conservative, but someone was going to have to go back to Earth and get more... or he could just steal Margo's. His eyes strayed back to the bed, and Eliot drank in the way Idri had propped his body up on his elbows. Oh god, he was beautiful. He was definitely stealing Margo's lube if they were stuck multiple days. He squeezed a portion of what remained into his hands, then rubbed them together to warm it. “Just so we're clear.” He stood with his hip cocked. “You're good with this right? Me fucking myself, because that's totally my plan right now.”

“Shouldn't we look for an answer?”

“Oh we'll find it, but I've wanted to do this since I was a teenager and figured out how pretty I am, so this is a life-long fantasy in real time.” Idri smiled at his eagerness, and Eliot grinned back at him. His gaze dropped and he reached to tuck back a curl that wasn't there. What would have been an affectionate laugh in Idri's voice came out as more of a giggle in Eliot's tone. Eliot reached down to stroke Idri's length with one slick hand as he walked to the bed. He dropped the tube, then clamored into bed and settled between his thighs. Idri groaned in appreciation as their dicks rubbed together; Eliot wrapped a hand around both of them as he leaned over himself to kiss his mouth. 

Their tongues sparred playfully against one another until Eliot reached for the lube and squirted more onto his hands. His fingers circled his entrance, as his mouth roamed down Idri's throat. He nipped a sensitive spot of flesh with his teeth as he pressed a single digit inward and hooked it to work a sweet spot. Idri gasped and shuddered; his pupils were blown, and his feet shifted restlessly as his hips lifted and pressed into his fingers. 

“Eliot!” His name, being keened in his voice, cut to the core of everything that made Eliot a hedonist. He was going to have Idri screaming it by the time he was done. 

“I'm going to take such good care of you.” He promised, half to Idri, half to the skin Idri was wearing. Slowly he added a second finger, then scissored and twisted them to hit all the spots that Idri tended to miss or ignore. His tongue and teeth and hands mapped his body's most sensitive places. Idri had better be taking notes! Two digits became three until eventually, he replaced the fingers with Idri's cock. As the tempo changed from intimate exploration to something rawer the bed started to rock against the wall with a force that Eliot knew to be at least part telekinetic. He could taste the wild magic building in the air. With a groan, he swiped Idri's tongue across one of his erect nipples. His name in his voice was the desired scream as Idri came. The unbridled telekinesis burst the bedroom's windows, and the feeling of his body tightening around Idri's member pushed Eliot past the limit. They collapsed together in a boneless pile, the only sound the ragged breathing. When Eliot forced his eyes back open, he memorized how relaxed, blissed out, and stoned his face looked. 

“Am I okay?” He asked when he could form words. 

“You are wonderful.” His eyes were still closed. “It appears I haven't been doing you justice as your lover.” Before he could say more the bedroom doors were thrown open, and Margo with a handful of their mixed guard poured into the entrance of their room. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” Margo growled as she stared at them curled in a spent lover's embrace. She was dressed in nothing more than panties, with a robe thrown over her bare breasts. Eliot realized they hadn't bothered with wards, and that she'd probably heard more than her fair share. 

“Sorry, Bambi.” Eliot murmured before he thought better of it. Her face twisted quizzically, then she levered a finger at Idri. 

“Oh, I didn't realize we were pet name friendly 'Cradle Robber.' Eliot fix the goddamn windows, and next time use a ward. You've made a dozen specifically for your morning booty calls.” 

“I...” Eliot started to say what was wrong, but the presence of their guards had him hesitate. “Don't think he's in a state of mind to cast.” He finished with a glance down at his body. Idri still looked blissed and spent.

“Everybody out. Nothing to see but a couple of shamelessly naked kings.” She herded the guard through the doors, then grabbed the handles and pushed them closed. “Eliot? Babe, are you all right?” She walked to the bed, and Eliot watched her rake gentle fingers through the damp curls of his hair.”

“I'm well, Margo... tired, but fine.” 

“Uh huh. Well,” Margo muttered as she cast, cleaning up the mess their lovemaking had left, before turning her attention to the windows. “Get your handsome ass out of bed, get dressed, and come help me choose an outfit for the day. It's the least you can do for waking me up.” She waited by the door as Idri swung his legs out of bed and disappeared into the walk-in closet. When Idri came back out, he'd dressed in the most unadorned clothes he could find. Eliot had to force his hand to stay at his side instead of beckoning Idri back into the closet to change. 

“Nope, try again. We have petitions to hear today.” Margo's arms crossed over her barely covered chest. Eliot snorted in amusement, and Idri cast a withering glare in his direction, but he obediently trooped back into the closet. The second attempt was better, a mix of black, red, and white; at least there was some color. “You look like a goddamn nutcracker,” Margo muttered. “Whatever, I'll make it work. Come on.” 

“I'll meet you in the library,” Eliot told the pair as they walked to the door. Once they had gone, he flopped onto his back and reached down to stroke his hand along Idri's cock. It was one thing to touch Idri and judge how his performance from Idri's reaction, but there was nothing like a little self-exploration. Once he'd coaxed a second orgasm from the body that was hopefully only temporarily his, he dragged himself from the bed and found the painfully boring set of clothes Idri had arrived in his room wearing. 

\--------------------- 

Eliot's body was still humming as Idri reluctantly followed Margo from the safety of his lover's bedroom. His husband had told him about his telekinesis, but he so rarely lost control of it that Idri had never realized the energy it took to maintain it. Frustration bubbled in his chest, and he wondered why Eliot seemed to have decided that discretion was better than revealing the truth. Then he passed the pair of Lorian guards who had stood in the doorway, and heard a whisper of 'little slut, look how willing he bends for King Idri' and knew that if their predicament were revealed it would only lead to chaos. Perhaps the discretion was best for now. 

“Fucking pricks,” Margo muttered as the doors of her suite snapped closed behind them. She'd heard the guard's whispered words as well. “I don't know why we have to have guards in the royal wing.” She muttered as she shed the robe and stood in nothing but panties. Out of respect, Idri did his best not to stare at her chest. He wasn't sure what he was actually expected to do, so he awkwardly continued to stand. Margo's unexpected laugh, combined with the press of her nail as she tipped his chin brought his gaze back to her. “Are you being coy? You've seen my tits a million times. Christ on a cracker, sit down, you really are out of it, aren't you?” She gestured to the bed, and Idri obediently sat. Margo, still sans clothes, poured him a glass of wine, then waltzed into her closet and came out with an armload of laden hangers. The bed bounced as she tossed at least a quarter of her wardrobe onto the bed beside him. She picked up the dress on top and held it against her. “How about this one?” 

“You'll look lovely in anything you wear, Margo.” That was the wrong answer. She tossed the garment down on the opposite side of him and picked up the next one. The pattern continued until Idri got wise, and chose one he liked. The red gown was floor length and shear, with wrist long lacy sleeves. A short sleeved white jacket lined with fur and hints of gold jewelry finished the ensemble. Out of courtesy, he offered her his arm as he escorted her out of her bedroom. Margo shrugged off the jacket when they reached the library, where breakfast had been laid out. Eliot's nose was buried in a spell book, but he snapped it closed and put it aside when they joined him. 

“In the mood for some light reading?” Margo snarked as she made herself a plate.

“Merely curious.” He walked to join them as they all made plates, and Idri patted the cushion beside him. The three of them ate in silence until the door swung open and Quentin slipped in. His husband's other lover was still dressed as he'd slept, in clothes of light earth cotton. Idri tensed when Quentin climbed into Eliot's lap. Arms went around the neck of the man he thought was his lover, then their mouths pressed together. While he accepted that Eliot shared his bed in his absence, it was the first time he'd been on the receiving end of a kiss from Quentin. 

“Morning.” Quentin's hair was sleep-tousled, and he buried his face against Eliot's throat to pepper light kisses along the flesh. The body Idri was borrowing responded on a brain chemistry level and flushed with arousal even as he reached to push Quentin away. Being in his twenties again was almost as overwhelming as Eliot's telekinesis, it seemed his husband responded to everything. 

“Quentin!” Idri was quite sure that Eliot hadn't meant to sound reproachful enough to make Quentin flinch like he'd done something wrong, but that was the effect. Quentin pulled back, then awkwardly scrambled out of Eliot's lap. 

“Sorry, Idri. I thought you knew; I didn't think you minded.” Idri could hear the faint rattle of plates against plates as Quentin's hands trembled. When he found a place to sit, he chose a chair away from the rest of them and curled up with his feet tight to his body. Idri shared a glance Eliot, and read the silent plea of 'fix this' written across the features of his face. He set his plate aside, then moved to sit on the arm of Quentin's chair.

“You didn't do anything wrong. Idri knows, but he's just a bit out of sorts this morning.” Quentin unfurled, then balanced a hand against his thigh and leaned up to give him a light peck on the lips. Idri fought down the urge to blush, it felt like a horrible invasion of Quentin's trust and privacy. 

“Okay.” The younger man dropped back into his chair to eat. 

“Tick is going to shit if we aren't in the throne room soon,” Margo muttered as she tossed her empty plate into the waiting tray. “Let's roll, El. Now.” 

“Of course.” Idri slipped off the chair and followed her towards the door. They made it into the hall before Ess swept into the wing.

“Have you seen my father, Trophy Husband?” Idri bristled at his son's disrespect.

“Daddy dearest is in the library.” Margo's hand caught just above Eliot's elbow, and he obediently obeyed the yank on his arm. 

“Your son in law can be an insufferable prick, El.” She muttered once they had left the wing. Idri pressed his lips in a thin line. He knew his only child could be difficult, but there was no reason for Ess to actively antagonize the Whitespire royals. They would have to have words once he'd been returned to his proper body. 

“Perhaps if you would give him another chance.” He suggested as diplomatically as possible.

“He wasn't that bad in the sack, not top ten, but top twenty, maybe top fifteen.” Margo leaned into him, close enough for a conspiratorial whisper. “Don't get me wrong, he's not on the small side, but his insistence on missionary position was so blah!” Idri forced a smile, and silently prayed she stopped talking about Ess' sexual proficiency. 

“Ah, your majesties... prompt as always.” Tick's tone was condescending as the pair of them sailed into the Whitespire throne room. “And, you match. How charming.” He ushered them towards their thrones, then shoved an armload of petitions into Eliot's arms. “I've made notes. Your Highness, just follow along and we should be done by lunch. I'll send the first dispute in momentarily.” Before Idri could protest, Tick had walked away, giving him no time to look at the cases he'd be addressing. With a hint of anger he dumped everything onto the floor. He'd been a king for years, this was the one aspect of Eliot's life he'd be able to handle blindfolded... or so he thought. With magic a more significant player, the issues were more inane than they would ever be in Loria. 

The first issue came from the hill town of Barion, where one neighbor had built a second story to his home, and it now impeded the view of the other. That was a simple matter of permits. Had the builder acquired the proper permit? Yes. Case dismissed. The second was a dispute over a unicorn, and who owned the magical plants that had sprouted from the dirt where it had taken a shit. That was a simple division of the asset. Next came an argument that the River Watcher charged ridiculous rates and cursed those who couldn't pay. Margo seemed to take particular issue with that and promised to look into it. One man, as a man, argued that a village woman had turned him into a newt. Margo made a crack about he had gotten better. From the expectant glance, she'd given Eliot it was clearly an Earth joke that had flown completely over Idri's head. 

After an hour a family of four arrived, claiming that Ember had made sexual advances on not only the son and daughter, but the parents as well, and now the father believed he was pregnant. Idri recommended them to the palace healers to have a test performed. Chances were high the man wasn't pregnant at all because he doubted Ember would be stupid enough to create a demigod unintentionally.

“Give us a brief break,” Idri ordered Tick after the family had left. 

“Your Highness, we have two dozen more, and a schedule to keep.” 

“Tick, take a moment to remind me. Which of us is king?” The man wilted a little. 

“You are king, your majesty. A child of Earth, just as Umber and Ember have decreed.”

“Then stop trying to dictate the agenda.” Tick bowed, then scuttled out of the throne room to delay the next petitioner. 

“Well someone is on a tear this morning.” Margo was grinning as she adjusted the fur that lay across her shoulders. “I'll tell you what, you seem to have this petition thing in the bag. I'm going to leave this to you, and go track down the handsome hunk of man meat you're married to.” Margo patted her friend's shoulder and winked at him before sweeping from the throne room. Idri was left wondering if she'd figured out the truth and was playing along, or if she'd chosen to throw Eliot to the wind on a whim. 

\------------------------

Eliot was having no luck finding a spell to help him. He'd planned to ask Quentin to help, but approaching him after he'd accidentally made him skittish had been impossible. Quentin had inhaled what remained of his plate as soon as his friends had left, then Ess had joined them, and his best friend had scuttled out of the library as soon as he'd set down his plate. 

“Father, must we stay the rest of the week?” 

“We'll stay as long as I like,” Eliot muttered. The thought of having to go back to the Cock Barrens in Idri's place got killed as soon as he thought it. He'd been to the Castle once, and there was no way he could hide the truth outside of Whitespire. 

“I don't know what you see in him, Eliot's a weak king on his best days. If he weren't such a good fuck, he wouldn't be worth your time.”

“If you hadn't screwed up the initial liaison by acting like a cocky bitch you might have actually interested Margo. Instead you pushed us into a war. I did us a favor by peacefully ending it.” 

“You should have killed him when you had the chance!” Ess snarled. “Their magic was spotty at best; it would have been easy. Instead, you let yourself be seduced.” 

“For the benefit of both our kingdoms.” Eliot grabbed up an armload of magical texts, then stormed towards the door. Worried that someone might look for him in his suite he carried the pile to Margo's room; thankfully she'd been in such a rush that she hadn't bothered to ward the doors. He sank to the floor with the pile and perused through them for almost an hour with no luck. Maybe her notes about soul transfer that she had made for the golem were in here somewhere. With a groan, he dropped the last book aside and started going through her journals. 

“If your son wanted a pair of my panties all he had to do was ask.” Eliot jumped at the unexpected interruption and spun to face his best friend. “Lady Margo. I can explain.” 

“Cut the crap, Eliot! Start explaining.” 

“Did Idri tell you?” 

“I guessed after your morning sex-scapade when you were screaming your fucking name, but I finished connecting the dots when you were actually good at the job you suck at and ordering Tick around the throne room like you weren't his puppet.” 

“We woke up like this,” Eliot explained. 

“And you have no idea what triggered it?” 

“None.” 

“Well, fuck balls!” Margo muttered. 

“I'm looking for your soul transfer notes; the ones we used when you had to save me from the golem's icy grip.”

“That was a Whitespire healing ritual. I'll get it for you. Hopefully, all we have to do is hook the two of you up, perform the spell, and you'll be right as rain by morning. Why didn't you tell me?” 

“I didn't want everyone to lose their shit. Have you talked to Q? He bolted as soon as you left him alone with me.” 

“I haven't seen him yet. He'll be fine; I wouldn't tell him until we get this fixed. Your boyfriend has a shitty poker face. No way it stays a secret if he knows the truth.” 

“Yeah. I didn't mean to yell at him.” 

“Q will get over it.” Margo fished a pair of panties from the mess strewn across the floor and patted Idri's cheek. “Give these to your son-in-law, just to fuck with him.” The two of them shared a grin as Eliot shoved the garment deep into his pocket. He'd leave them on Ess' bed when he went back to Idri's suite to find a change of clothes. 

“You're an angel, Bambi!” Her face scrunched in disgust. 

“Don't; it doesn't sound right in that voice.” She patted his cheek again, then disappeared from the room. The rest of the afternoon passed in the same awkward style that the morning had, as he and Idri did their best imitations of one another and failed miserably. By lunch, Margo had ordered the servants to clear the throne room of anything valuable that might break in the moments that Idri lost control of his powers. When they retired for the night Margo had prepared the soul transfer ritual for them and hooked a set of small electrodes to their foreheads. For Eliot, it was hard enough to settle his nerves enough to relax and go to sleep. Idri's body was too big, and he was too hot, and he snored far louder than he'd ever dreamed. Eventually, he drifted off. 

When morning dawned, he woke up the way he'd expected, as the little spoon to Idri's big, with magic flowing through fingers that were the correct size. 

“Idri!” He shook the older man awake, hoping that Idri's mind that jumped back into the correct frame and not randomly to someone else.

“Eliot?” The older man gave him a sleepy, relieved smile. “It seems the ritual worked.” 

“Damn right it worked. Bambi's the best.” Eliot wrapped himself around the bigger man and yanked him over top him. “Now show me what you learned yesterday.” Idri chuckled softly as his mouth found a spot Eliot had nicked with his teeth. “I want you to wreck me.” He encouraged as he struggled not to gasp too loudly in pleasure.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing!


End file.
